This poem I’ve always loved by Olena Kalytiak Davis (1963-) feels so eerily apt right now.
“Postcard”
Lately, I am capable only of small things.
Is it enough
to feel the heart swimming?
Jim is fine. Our first
garden is thick with spinach
& white radish. Strangely,
it is summer
but also winter & fall.
In response to your asking:
I fill the hours
then lick them shut.
Today, not a single word, but the birds
quietly nodding
as if someone had suggested
moving on.
What is that perfect thing
some one who once believed in god said?
Please don’t misunderstand:
We still suffer, but we are
happy.
live in the layers 
Thank you Natalie, I loved this poem so much I made a graphic of it! Love your curating [image: Orange Quote Flowers Instagram Post.png]
On Thu, Apr 16, 2020 at 12:02 AM live in the layers wrote:
> Natalie Jabbar posted: “This poem I’ve always loved by Olena Kalytiak > Davis (1963-) feels so eerily apt right now. âPostcardâ Lately, I am > capable only of small things. Is it enough to feel the heart swimming? Jim > is fine. Our first garden is thick with spinach & white” >
Hi Lisa! I love that. Did you attach the image? It didn’t show up here. Maybe you can link to it somehow? Thank you!–Natalie
Natalie, this is so good – I needed it. Thank you for sharing!
Sonja
On Wed, Apr 15, 2020 at 7:02 AM live in the layers wrote:
> Natalie Jabbar posted: “This poem I’ve always loved by Olena Kalytiak > Davis (1963-) feels so eerily apt right now. “Postcard” Lately, I am > capable only of small things. Is it enough to feel the heart swimming? Jim > is fine. Our first garden is thick with spinach & white” >